The Heronclaw Chronicles: The Rise of Masserly

By Gavin Wolfe-Winland

The Masserly Ingenious Clan is tasked to investigate a murder put on display in their city. However, when these demon hunters are forced to work with the Daughter of Lucifer and her team, the MIC find a demon-raising cult in the Fey Realm. The trust between the two teams will be tested when the brewing threat hits the streets of Masserly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Dec 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665734103

Gavin Wolfe-Winland

Gavin Wolfe-Winland started writing about one group of characters when he was in eighth grade. After eight revisions he found the story he wanted to tell, and made it happen. He lives in Maryland, scheming away at the high bar of his favorite diner.

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Copyright © 2022 Gavin Wolfe-Winland.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3409-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3410-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022922398

Archway Publishing rev. date: 12/20/2022

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1 GENESIS

CHAPTER 2 UNTRAVELED ROAD

CHAPTER 3 LINES IN THE SAND

CHAPTER 4 COURTESY CALL

CHAPTER 5 RISE ABOVE IT

CHAPTER 6 EVENT HORIZON

CHAPTER 7 INTO THE VOID

CHAPTER 8 DON’T GO

CHAPTER 9 SEASONS

CHAPTER 10 TERRORIST

CHAPTER 11 DEVIL’S CALLING

CHAPTER 12 SOAK ME IN BLEACH

INTRODUCTION

I thought I was lonely until I realized how big the world was.

Then I started to drown.

So, when you contacted me, Mrs. Heronclaw, were you positive that you wanted to sign your children up here …? The woman behind the desk asked, clasping her hands together formally. Amanda Knox, leader of the Masserly Ingenious Clan, was interested in what she had to say. Amanda had recruited demon hunters, both from the streets and from her own office. However, there was something bizarre about what she had heard. This woman had two children, who had no fighting history, and suddenly she wanted to throw them into a clan of demon hunters? Where was their training? Their history?

And what kind of intriguing story could she enlighten me with? In front of Amanda, Kim Heronclaw clasped her hands together as she cleared her throat subtly, nodding. She adorned messy, dirty blonde hair, looking to be in her mid-thirties. To Amanda, she was a bit of an eyesore—she could tell that life was not kind to this woman. How old are they?

"My son Gabriel, he’s thirteen. His sister Cloie is fourteen, just over a year older than him. They’re not too young to join, right?" Kim asked, looking at Amanda curiously. The warlock smiled, shaking her head as she stood up. Walking around the desk, rolling her tongue over her teeth while she drew up the right response.

"No. In all honesty, they are in the right age range. However, normally demon hunters get trained at a slightly younger age, usually starting at eleven or twelve, based on their general maturity. Is there any specific reason for signing them up here?" Amanda paused, tapping her nails on the desk lightly. She was curious why Kim had approached her instead of the Masserly Peacekeepers. Amanda knew of more experienced trainers in the other regions of the Islands too, who were better equipped for training them. Your home is closer to the Peacekeepers’ clan house. Why me? She asked, tilting her head curiously. She crossed her arms as Kim glanced at the display case against the wall. In it, Amanda had a few awards from her time spent with the Council—the botched justice system of the Sibylline world. The awards in the case varied from her exceptional teaching ability to the plaque of an Honorary Act from five years ago.

I don’t think anyone in the Peacekeepers can help. That’s what I’m concerned about, so I came to you, Kim told her, turning her attention to Amanda again. She was curious about Kim’s issue; she was vague with her.

Well, then, what’s the issue? If the Peacekeepers cannot help you, there may not be much more that I can assist with. Amanda tilted her head, observing Kim.

For a moment, Kim choked on her words. Amanda inclined her head, curious about what was stopping her from speaking. Was she that nervous? Guilty of something, even? Clearing her throat, she answered.

My son is a demon. My daughter, she’s becoming a … warlock, Kim told her, taking a deep breath. Her cheeks faintly blushed as she averted her eyes for a few seconds. Amanda nodded as she bit her bottom lip. She chuckled to herself, relaxing her shoulders. Oh boy, she thought.

Well, that’s quite a predicament. I take it that their powers just now started to develop? You probably came up here out of fear, hoping we have someone employed here to help you out? After a moment of silence, Amanda sighed and cleared her throat. "I can take them in, Miss Heronclaw. I train demon hunters; however … I don’t help half-breeds learn their abilities normally because that’s not my expertise. But I have connections you don’t. I can call in a friend, actually more—if one’s a demon, the other a warlock—how powerful were the fathers?" Amanda gazed at Kim, then at her chipped nails for a brief second, before pushing her blue-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of her nose.

I wouldn’t honestly know.

Amanda nodded, hoping it would not be a big issue. "I see. Well, I suppose these strings could get pulled. What’s obvious is that they’re a problem on your hands. Both have unknown, powerful abilities that, if they become rampant, there can be a lot of serious consequences—both for them and you since you’re the caretaker. We’ll have you sign over custody to me; that way, we can ensure that we don’t have any legal problems with the Sibylline Council. How does that sound?" Amanda asked. She was sitting on the desk now, looking down at Kim. One eye is the color of the blue sky; the other is amethyst.

That sounds good to me, Ms. Knox. Is that all? Shall we discuss a payment plan, rent, or anything else?

No. Any person under eighteen who complies with the Accords is under the jurisdiction of my Clan. Even if that weren’t the case, let’s look at it this way. They need to learn to control these abilities; otherwise, bad things can happen. I would not charge you anything regardless. Amanda smiled faintly as she observed Kim from where she stood. Curious to meet the two young teenagers, she wondered how much trouble she would have aided them. It was a unique and precarious predicament, but she knew of a few worse cases.

Thank you, Miss. I really appreciate it, Kim said as she stood up. Amanda gave her a smile as she put out her hand in return. Giving it a brief shake, Kim faintly smiled at her; Amanda was wondering how her children would react to being sent here. Would they love it, thinking it was a vacation from home? Would they hate it, thinking their mother gave them up? Sacrificing them because she could not handle training them properly? Amanda figured Kim probably wanted to give them their best life, even if their adjustment was rocky.

Amanda cleared her throat as Kim began to grab her purse, with her filled-out paperwork sitting on her desk. Kim stopped to gaze at her, a curious look plastered on her face. Her eyes enlightened Amanda, seeing the relief already coming out. Before I let you go. Who is the boy’s father?

Seven Years Later

Masserly has been getting restless, you know? Alaric looked across the rafters from the shadows at his partner, Gabriel. Glancing up in return, Gabriel started shaking his head.

The whole world has been, Alaric. Do you think that changes anything? Gabriel peered down, stepping onto the next beam, curling his fingers around his sword more tightly than before. Below them, a group of demons running across the neighborhood had stopped in an empty warehouse to begin nesting. They had already picked off a few demons, but below them was what remained of the group.

Not saying it does, Gabriel. It makes me worry about what could be coming. Alaric said to him. Gabriel’s eyes flickered up at his best friend once more, glancing over his ice-blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair. He had known him for years, forming a strong bond the more they hunted together. Alaric was one of the better hunters in the city that Gabriel knew, but sometimes his heart was not always in the right place. At times, it felt like Alaric did not care enough for what mattered at hand; other times, he cared enough to die for the city.

Gabriel wished he could say the same, but it felt like he was teetering off the beaten path. After the death of his previous partner Damien in a fight to save innocent lives, Gabriel had been lost ever since. Whether or not they could achieve their goal of making a difference in the world was too soon to predict. They were striving to achieve the reduction of threats from demons over time, no matter how insignificant their contributions felt. The likelihood of demons overrunning the world could change at any moment, let alone any fight—Gabriel hoped he would not see that firsthand.

Trying to keep his head clear, he shook the thought of his old partner and looked at the weapon in Alaric’s hands. They used what they could—bladed weapons, blunt objects, firearms. They all dealt damage to demons and could kill them, but the tougher ones were resistant to firearms rendering them almost useless. Alaric better have brought his machete; I’m not covering for him again, like last time, Gabriel thought with a small snicker. In the end, he still had his back. They both knew they could count on one another in a fight, no matter how bad.

Alaric looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, but Gabriel had already started his descent. The sword in his hands was facing down, ready to pierce the flesh of the first demon. The moment he made contact, the room would descend into chaos. The Osis demon beneath Gabriel shrieked as the blade cut through its torso, like paper, doing quick work and alerting the rest of the demons. The room quickly erupted into panic and demonic sounds as the demons dispersed around Gabriel, some willing to fight. In contrast, others feigned flight and waited for an opportunity to strike inconspicuously. Alaric stayed above, on the rafters, observing before he began to fire his weapon down below, careful not to hit Gabriel in the process.

That was the thing; they knew where they needed to be cautious of their movements and their actions. One wrong move, and they could cut one another, fire a round carelessly and have the bullet wound their partner, or worse. The same danger came from demons they hunted in the streets, behind old shops and storefronts, and onto the rooftops of the city they had grown up in. Demons lurked everywhere they turned, no matter how many they could kill. A war that seemed to have no end in sight, no matter how many demons they killed within a week. No one knew how to stop the demons from getting into this world, but they could prevent them from taking over, right? They just had to keep fighting.

Ripping through flesh and demonic bone, Gabriel’s sword hummed as it met the blood and ichor of his enemies. Forged from Hell, an unknown sender passed the sword down to him when he turned sixteen. No return address, no reasoning as to why it had become his. But the sword, Bludbregierde, thirsted for demonic blood. It sang to Gabriel in a way he couldn’t describe, no matter how hard he tried. There was no weapon better fit for him.

"Gabriel!" Alaric yelled from above. Gabriel whirled, stepping away as one of the demons lunged at his back. He watched the demon smash itself into a stack of barrels, knocking them over. Oil started to spill out onto the floor, making it even more dangerous for Gabriel to be on the floor. He watched the demon turn to him; eight red beady eyes stared at him, jagged teeth hanging out of its mouth with black saliva coming off its forked tongue. The demon hunched down, its four legs posed in an aggressive stance, as a twisted hissing tone resonated behind its glaring hungry eyes. The demon was stalking him like he was prey, crimson red eyes bulging from its mangled skull.

Gabriel started to step back when he tripped on one of the demonic corpses, starting to fall back. He yelled, reaching back to catch his fall on the bloody concrete. His palm slipped on the slick floor, causing him to land on the floor. Pain blossomed up his forearm as the demon shrieked loudly, calling the rest of the pack. The shrieks of the Osis demons could carry out for miles in cities, as it was what they were known for—their ability to use their voices in unique ways. That made them dangerous in close quarters—they could emit a low frequency that could make someone seriously sick, if not kill them.

The demon lunged forward at Gabriel; its human-like arms stretched out to pin him down with claws. A magazine dropped off to Gabriel’s left, letting him know Alaric was trying to reload and protect him. He brought Bludbregierde with a flick of the wrist, impaling the demon. It let out a strangled growl, inches from Gabriel’s face. He growled in frustration and kicked the demon with his foot, pulling it off his blade. The demon slid back toward the barrels, trying to get away. As he started to pull himself up, Alaric shot the demon twice, finishing it off. Gabriel took a deep breath, wiping the blood on his hands off his pants as he looked up at Alaric. He was leaning up against the rafter still, checking his rifle.

We got the five that were in here. But it called for more.

I know. Are we sticking around and waiting for them to show up? Alaric questioned from above.

You want to be sitting ducks? Gabriel poked the nearest corpse with his fiery blade, watching the blade glow red in the dim lighting. It only glowed when it was stained with blood. Bludbregierde never ceases to amaze me.

Not particularly. But if it called whatever was left, why leave? They were trying to nest where you’re standing. Gross. Gabriel shot a soft glare up at Alaric before turning toward the spilled barrels.

What about— Alaric was cut off by something crashing through one of the windows above. Alaric yelped out as he was hauled out through the window by a demon. Gabriel looked up in time to watch his partner’s rifle fall and hit the concrete floor as a disorienting shriek rang out into the night air. "Damnit." Gabriel muttered as he started to run toward the closest door, bashing his way through it. Falling onto the gravel on the other side, he rolled to a stop as Alaric fought off the Osis demon that had seized Alaric above him from the rafters. Trying to kick it away, pushing up on its neck to keep the snapping jaws off his face.

Gabriel moved forward to assist, not going to let someone else die under his watch. Alaric reached for his sidearm when the demon hissed loudly, jumping off him. It shuddered as it swung its tail toward Alaric’s head, starting to walk toward Gabriel. Moving forward, Gabriel brought Bludbregierde down in a fierce arc, narrowly missing its jagged shoulder. A low growl echoed out as it scurried across the ground. Ducking out of reach, the demon strafed to the side, opening its jaws to trap him.

Gabriel stepped back and raised his foot, kicking out at the upper jaw of the demonic beast. It stumbled back as he lifted his other foot with a strong kick, getting its head away. The final Osis demon popped up on the other side of Alaric, screeching loudly as it clambered over the fence hastily. Alaric scrambled up to his feet as if he was next on the menu, reaching again for his sidearm.

Distracted, Gabriel was knocked back by the other demon and sent flying into the concrete floor. He skimmed across the ground, his legs lifting slightly to prevent the demon from leaping onto him. He rolled to his side as shots were fired off, and the ringing in his ears returned again.

Gabriel swung his sword at the approaching demon, carving out a chunk of demonic flesh from its wretched body. It grunted, latched onto his arm like a rabid dog, and began to snap its head from side to side. Gabriel yelled, dropping his weapon from the pain flowing through his arm. His other hand started to change, bones cracking beneath the skin as the tips of his fingers grew a shade of brown, forming claws. He plunged them into the side of the Osis’ skull, freeing his arm. As the demon started to back off and give Gabriel the needed room, a sliver of doubt crossed his mind.

Striking the weapon forward, cutting into the flesh like paper. The demon tried to snap its head back and flee, but Death already had it in its jaws. Gabriel pulled the sword back and raised his arm for a deadly arc; in a swift motion, he beheaded the demon. He stepped back as the body hit the floor, blood pouring out onto the ground. The memory flashed back in his head briefly, soaking the tile flooring in front of his old boots. Stepping back and turning his head away, he felt the world around him sway beneath his feet, causing him to lose balance. Alaric’s voice brought him back, alerting him as he yelled out.

Whipping his head in his direction, Gabriel could see the scene unwinding as Alaric shoved the demon away with his feet, kicking it off again. Using the spare time he had to scurry back, Alaric fumbled with his firearm.

The Osis demon started to draw closer again as Gabriel stepped forward, and Alaric began to open fire. In a series of rapid succession, five shots were fired into the demonic creature’s torso and head.

The demon lurched forward, falling atop him, and a strangled breath escaped the monster. Alaric grunted from beneath.

Suddenly the beast started to twitch, a low hiss escaping its maw. It was still alive.

Alaric let out a low, animalistic growl as he set his firearm down again, his hand crackling as claws started to tear out from beneath the flesh. He shoved his hand right through the demon’s chest, coming through the other side covered in blood and ichor. He threw the limp body off him, letting his head drop against the concrete.

Gabriel moved forward, stopping just beside him. Breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling slowly. Alaric’s eyes opened to reveal the midnight blue orbs looking up at him. His bloodied hair and stubble glistened in the light as he leaned his head to the left, looking over at the carcass. You used your sidearm first. Why?

Alaric chuckled, rolling his eyes. Don’t start. I thought it would kill it.

Gabriel laughed, holding his hand out. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. We got places to be.

CHAPTER

1

GENESIS

~GABRIEL HERONCLAW~

Masserly was a bustling trademark of the Nebulus Islands, the pivotal point of trade and what had been built up from one of the first villages of the islands. The city was home to many Sibylline people—whether they were vampires, werewolves, or warlocks, varied with some mundanes in between. The warlocks were the top class of the Sibylline races in terms of power, the werewolves in numbers. Immaculates, who believed they were blessed by the Gods, was the elite class. Many grew stronger, some trained in the arcane arts, and most believed their fellow Sibylline people were anything but friends. While they were a fleeting race, they were infamous for their superiority complex that came from their religious beliefs. There were always tensions involving the Sibylline races in Masserly, especially when they were pitted against one another because of crimes committed. Even if they were demon hunters, unfortunately.

Down at the Masserly Pier, one of the main attractions for demon hunters was San Padua. It was a staple pub that served decent food and drinks, seated along the pier to look out into the Atlantic Ocean. When the weather permitted, its picturesque sunrises and sunsets were another attraction point for its patrons other than its pub fare menu.

Inside, Gabriel was seated with Alaric. Following their earlier excursion, they had already begun to unwind for the night. Both Gabriel and Alaric had cleaned themselves off before coming to the pub. The sound of classic rock filled the room, played by the jukebox in the corner. Tapping his foot along to the beat, Gabriel tried to relax despite the back pain. He sighed and moved his hands down to his thighs, rubbing them on the cargo pants stained with demon ichor and dried blood. He looked over at Alaric, who was now busy midbite with a piece of mackerel, looking like a mess himself. You know how close things got back there?

Alaric lifted his head, raising his eyebrows in question. He raised his hand to cover his mouth and nodded, tapping his fork against the plate several times. Yeah, I’m still irritated at how long we had to deal with them. Shit’s annoying. Is your back okay?

Honestly, it just feels like I slept wrong, not gonna lie. If I hadn’t caught myself, it probably would’ve been worse, Gabriel answered, shaking his head. He crossed his arms, gazing around the room momentarily; the bar was full of mundanes and werewolves, as it usually was any other weekend night. Not seeing any warlocks or vampires tonight surprised Gabriel; on Friday nights, Corinthia, one of the warlock waitresses, usually served them.

As Gabriel’s eyes washed over the crowd, now looking toward the front door, he noticed two familiar figures walking toward their table—a blonde-haired warlock with bright blue eyes and a stunning brunette with eyes the color of tree bark. Both girls were their sisters; Alaric’s twin sister Kayla, the brunette werewolf; and Gabriel’s older half-sister Cloie, a warlock. Gabriel watched Kayla as she came around the table, smiling at him. She leaned down, kissing him on the cheek before taking her seat beside Cloie.

Hey, boys. Did y’all have fun tonight? Cloie asked while she adjusted her seat. She and Gabriel shared a look for a moment before she scanned him thoroughly. Cloie looked curious, but there was concern in her ocean-blue eyes as she scanned Gabriel, shaking her head. Well, you look like shit, Gabriel.

Thanks, sis. Gabriel chuckled while rolling his eyes.

It was a shit show. What else did y’all expect? We almost had our organs turned into goo, Alaric answered as he glanced toward Cloie. Leaning forward on the table, Kayla pointed toward Alaric. The smirk crossing her lips indicated she had something smart to say.

So, you’re saying that you got your ass whooped again? At least you’re alive … but you can’t hide that fresh scratch on your forehead, Al, Kayla said, her voice hinting a bit of playfulness, trying to lighten up the mood as she always did. Alaric chuckled, shaking his head as he looked toward Gabriel.

Basically, Gabriel laughed, if it weren’t for me, he’d look even worse. He joked, despite the truthfulness of what he had said. The girls had almost lost both tonight, not that anyone wanted to admit it. Cloie seemed intrigued but quickly lost interest in the topic as she looked around the room. He looked at Kayla in her beautiful brown eyes. Of course, he averted his eyes quickly and took a sip of his drink before she noticed.

"Oh, please. You saving him can’t help his looks," Kayla sneered, looking at Alaric for a moment. Alaric glared at her momentarily before he broke into a smile from the banter. He glanced at the waiter who came up to their table again, the same one who had taken the boys’ orders a little bit ago.

Taking a bite of his burger, Gabriel listened to the girls order their drinks. The waiter began to walk off, notebook in hand. Gabriel watched him go before he leaned on the table, taking another drink.

You’re lucky we’re related, he heard Alaric mutter in response to Kayla’s comment. Their relationship was nothing short of entertaining—they were always bickering with one another in some way, no matter the reasoning. Yet, at the end of the day, they all knew they weren’t serious with one another. Ever so rarely would they take offense to what was being said.

Almost the whole time, they’d all known one another, though Gabriel and Alaric were blood brothers. It had been over eight years since Gabriel and Cloie entered the MIC Manor with their mother, Kim, and were greeted by the Thornton twins. They had helped Gabriel throughout the years, and he could not imagine spending all this time with anyone else but them and a few others along the way. He gazed toward his sister for a moment, wishing they would get along more often. With him being part demon and her being a warlock, they always seemed to be at odds with something.

So, did y’all hear the news, guys? Kayla asked, looking from Gabriel to Alaric. Alaric raised a curious blonde eyebrow, sharing a look with Gabriel.

News? What happened? he asked.

So, the feud with the warlocks and the fey? Because of Queen Jane’s father being murdered by that warlock all those years ago? The warlock representative, Laurine Gorman, is trying to settle this feud with Queen Jane and the other fey courts. That’s what multiple reports were all saying today, Kayla said, leaning on the table with her forearms. Gabriel shrugged his shoulders some, but Alaric started to shake his head.

You think that this feud is going to be settled with Jane? We’re talking about her father, you know. Murdered in cold blood—

"Queen Jane did try to initiate this in the first place, Alaric," Cloie cut in.

If Queen Jane started it … why is Laurine doing the rest? Gabriel asked suddenly, looking from Kayla to Cloie. It confused him a little, wondering how the problems were attempting to be solved. With the murder of Queen Jane’s father happening only a decade ago, the general distaste between warlocks and all fey had been going on since Gabriel could remember. Over the years, there had been people who tried before to fix the feud, but to no avail. Solely it was up to Queen Jane and Laurie Gorman.

Shaowen Hester, I suppose, mentioned what she was trying to do to the other courts, hoping the other two would fall in line. Word traveled, somehow, to Miss Gorman. She thinks that the feud needs to be over and should’ve never started in the first place. I agree, personally, but I also can see the anger brought by Queen Jane and the rest of the courts. From what I’ve heard, Queen Jane’s father was a great man, Kayla said, placing her hand on Gabriel’s thigh. He must not have seen the waiter come back; he noticed the girls had their drinks now when he looked over at Kayla.

Taking a sip of her drink, Cloie shook her head and set the cup down. I don’t see the whole point of the feud. Over a murder? Granted, we are talking about the Spring Court king—but that was a decade ago. There was never a war. No battles were fought.

That warlock who killed the Spring King cited a murder committed by a summer fey in our realm. The king knew about the murder; the victim was the warlock’s father. The king let the fey go, sweeping it all under the rug. No punishment if the murder never came to light. Next thing you know, both the murderer and the king are killed. It was, in all honesty, justified, Kayla said. Gabriel glanced toward her, impressed that she remembered everything without needing to look any of it up on her phone. She looked around the table at her fellow peers with calm eyes, arms crossed over her leather jacket.

Shaking his head, Gabriel could not imagine being in Queen Jane’s shoes, with what she had to go through. He thought of his mother momentarily; he wondered if she was okay. It had been a few days since he’d spoken to her, and now he was thinking about her.

Finally, he was brought back to the pub as Kayla tapped his foot with her boot. He raised his head, looking at her. The other two had grown silent, Alaric finishing up his food while Cloie had her nose down in her phone, scrolling through social media again. You all right, hon?

Yeah, I am. Just a little sore in my upper back, he said to her in a low voice, smiling faintly. He glanced toward Cloie. She looked tired but not like Alaric. He was resting his chin on his propped hand, his hair hanging down to reveal the fresh cut he had gotten tonight. Kayla sighed, getting up from her seat. Boots clicking on the wooden floor, she walked around the table, passing behind Gabriel. Crouching by her brother, grabbing his head and pulling it down, her other hand moving his hair up. He started to protest until he realized what she was doing.

How’d you get this?

I’m fine, sis—

"How did you get this?" She asked him again, her stern tone making Alaric obey this time.

"I got attacked by one of the damn Osis demons last second. I’ll be fine," he said to her, pulling himself away. Kayla glared at him for a moment before shaking her head. Gabriel observed them, knowing Alaric did not like getting medical attention from his sister. Training to solely be a nurse at first, Kayla had fallen off with her nursing training to pursue being a combat medic. It allowed her to still hunt demons while providing medical attention as she previously desired. To help people, as she always strived to do.

"You realize they could have poisoned you, right, Al? After a soft sigh, she shook her head. Let’s head home. I don’t want you to brush anything off. Every demon out there is dangerous in its unique way." Kayla said, standing up. She adjusted her leather jacket, zipping it halfway over her black t-shirt beneath it. She looked down at Gabriel, beginning to adjust her ponytail slightly. Alaric nodded, grabbing the check off the edge of the table. He stood up, heading off to pay while the other three got ready to go. Gabriel pushed his seat in, turning to Kayla.

She grabbed his hand, slipping her fingers between his as they looked at one another. You think he’ll be fine? You don’t look too worried.

Kayla scoffed, rolling her eyes at him, Al is as tough as a damn brick wall. Stubborn like one, too—but he should be fine. It didn’t look infected, but there have been cases where the infection doesn’t show immediately. Did the demon nest give y’all that much trouble?

Yes, Gabriel shook his head, they kept running around the city trying to escape us. They almost got away but started to nest in this warehouse off Old Quarterfield Road. They split up, and some waited for us to attack so that they could ambush us. One grabbed Alaric and took him outside, almost killing him. Gabriel began to walk with the two girls, with them getting ready to leave. He pulled the collar of his shirt down slightly, not wanting it to be riding up on his neck as it had been.

That bad? Haven’t you noticed that the city has seen an increase in demon activity lately? And, of course, did the Peacekeepers help you guys out? Kayla asked him as she pushed open the front door. Alaric went through first, with Gabriel the last one out the door. Back into the night breeze, Gabriel turned to Kayla before he started walking, waiting on Kayla.

Yeah, they started to, but they got carried off on their own things. Wound up just being us at the end, Gabriel said, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. They walked over to Gabriel’s vehicle a little slower than they normally did. Gabriel watched as Cloie unlocked her sedan, a sapphire blue Audi, slipping inside. Alaric had already paid their tab and was walking down to the end of the parking lot where he had parked; his Nissan sat beside Gabriel’s vehicle. Kayla pulled his attention away, wrapping an arm around his waist and softly kissing him on the cheek.

Turning his head, he leaned over and kissed her before gazing at her momentarily. You look tired, hon. You need to get some rest when we get back to the Manor, she said to him. Even though he did not feel that tired, he was sure she was probably right. Used to staying up late and for longer than he probably should, Gabriel could only imagine how tired he looked. The sound of sirens in the distance made Gabriel reach out with his ears, listening to the distant sounds.

Gabriel was about to get in his Pontiac when he turned his head, looking in the direction of helicopter sounds nearby. A helicopter was flying in front of the Oeconomia Building, hovering in place. The spotlight was focused on the building. Gabriel’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to piece together what he saw from this distance. Kayla asked him what he was looking at; unable to see clearly, Gabriel could not tell if he was seeing what he thought: bodies? If so, it looked like five, hanging for the city to see some barbaric trophy.

Or a message.

Uhm, Gabriel? Alaric asked. Gabriel looked over at him, assuming his eyes were messing with him—they had to be. He noticed Alaric was holding his phone up with a video playing. He slid it over the roof of his car into Kayla’s hands. She caught it, looking at the screen for a moment before she placed her hand over her mouth.

"Oh my God. Gabriel?" She asked, turning to look at him. She handed him the phone, and he narrowed his eyes as he looked at the screen. It was a live video from a news chopper, with what he believed he had seen; five bodies hung at different lengths, a gruesome scene on top of the Oeconomia Building. The feed was cut to the reporter at the base of the building, getting ready to speak. He turned the volume up as the Thornton twins came over to him.

… bystanders on the street earlier tonight called in the sounds of screaming coming from the central district by the Oeconomia Building, but only now, two hours after the police call, are officials finding the bodies. It appears to be a grisly message for an unknown affiliation, but those responsible remain at large.

Gabriel handed Alaric his phone back as he leaned on the roof of his car. He looked from Kayla to Alaric, biting his lip, before glancing up at the building. He sighed slightly, shaking his head.

Jesus Christ, dude. Can you believe this shit?

Looks like our work isn’t going to be done tonight. You see the way they’re facing? Toward the Manor. This— Gabriel pointed up at the Oeconomia Building as he looked back at the two, this might have been a message to us.

~ELIAS THOMPSON~

The following hours put the team on high alert. Elias Thompson, the team’s trainer, was up all night to watch the chaos unfold. Once the four hunters returned from San Padua, Amanda was notified of their suspicions. By the crack of dawn, it was all over the news. On television, it was being called a grisly murder by a serial killer. Elias believed it was a message instead; he did not know who it was for.

So, we have no idea about this whole situation? A pause, "yes, I understand. I’ll send my two best for this situation. I—No, don’t worry—Celina, I fully understand the severity of this situation. I will see you later today at the council meeting." Amanda pulled the device off her ear, glancing at the screen as she ended the call. Elias watched Amanda set the phone on the end table, turning to the watching eyes in the living room. She crossed her arms, looking down at the floor for a moment, before shaking her head.

Elias was about to speak when Gabriel spoke up. So, what are we going to do, Amanda? This is a serious situation, Gabriel stated as he sat on the loveseat beside Kayla. He was leaning forward on his forearms, which rested on his knees. He looked a bit antsy, given everything.

"I’m well aware of that, Gabriel. Amanda sighed, uncrossing her arms briefly as she turned to gaze toward Gabriel. I want Cloie and Elias to head up to the Oeconomia Building. I’ll send word to the Masserly Peacekeepers and see if they’ll send someone for a joint operation. I don’t need Mrs. Blackwell up my ass because of this nasty mess," Amanda said, her cheeks flushed. Cloie shifted around in the chair across the room, hearing her name being mentioned. She was curled up into a ball, phone in hand. She had a raised eyebrow, looking alert as she was looking toward everyone else. Elias stood up, shaking his head, walking toward Amanda.

So, we’re going to do what, exactly? Elias asked curiously, crossing his arms as he looked toward Amanda. Knowing her for years, Elias felt Amanda would overstress herself in a situation like this. According to Gabriel, it was a message to them—yet the ones found in Masserly were not the only ones hung in public. Someone had also left their way to hang bodies off the Council Building.

Granted, there was no proof that they were the ones being sent a message. Now they were sitting there in the early morning, figuring out what was happening. Amanda did receive the call in the middle of the night about bodies hanging from the Oeconomia Building, being told they might have been needed. Elias hoped that something would steer their team away—the younger ones did not need this on their plate. They were hardly older than twenty-one.

Elias, go up to the Oeconomia Building. Find whatever you can about this whole situation. The building is locked down. Just go to the main lobby, find the officer in charge, and tell them you’re part of the MIC sent by the Council. I need camera footage and any other evidence they have. Let’s find the killers and get a reason why this happened. The bodies are already in the morgue now. Amanda said, looking at Elias. Her eyes seemed to focus on him as he stood there, towering above her by a foot.

All right. He breathed out in slight annoyance. Find intel, see what this whole situation is about. Got it. Anything else?

Nope. Go when you and Cloie are ready. Although, personally, the quicker I can get information to Celina Blackwell, the better, Amanda said, and Elias nodded as he walked over to Cloie. He lightly tapped her knee, causing her to look up from her phone at him, her glasses hanging on the bridge of her nose. She sighed, getting ready to get up from her seat.

So, what, we’re demon hunters turned special agents? Gabriel’s voice rose out of the silence, causing Elias and Cloie to freeze. Elias looked toward him before turning more to look at Amanda. Why would this concern us? What, people get hung, and instead of the police being sent in, we do? We’re just demon hunters. He put his hands up, confusion crossing his face.

Elias glanced away, knowing he had a point.

I’ve already spoken to Celina Blackwell on this, Gabriel. I get your reasoning, and it’s just—

"Just? Amanda, come on. If you’re with us, then why are we going?"

"I’m following my orders. Celina believes there is something demonic going on here. There was something off about the scene, according to her. If there is anything demonic about it, I want to know." Amanda responded to him rather calmly, moving away toward her office. Elias shook his head, watching her shut the frosted doors behind her.

"Yeah, like demons hung the bodies. They aren’t that sophisticated," Cloie muttered sarcastically. Elias shook his head, unsure whether he should even bother arguing against her statement. While she was right—she forgot that there were demons out there that could hang bodies. In books, they only heard about Princes and Dukes of Hell, to more complex demonic creatures.

Come on, Cloie, we’ve got work to do, Elias called out.

Cloie followed behind him, arms crossed with annoyance on her face. She looked no more than an upset kid who had their toys taken away from them. He grabbed her keyset off the hook, tossing them to her. She caught them, slipping her finger through the key ring before following him outside.

Elias squinted his eyes, reaching for the sunglasses that hung off the collar of his undershirt. He put them on, knuckles brushing against the old jacket he had over it. His dog tags rested against his chest beneath the shirt, gained from his service before he became a vampire. Elias thought about what had happened when he was turned. It was miles away from him, but it had still changed him. A vampire who later learned how to walk in the sunlight.

A rare blessing bestowed by warlock magic.

Elias reached up to gently run his fingers over his old dog tags, reminiscing of a particular night in Leningrad. He looked at Cloie, knowing she was always trying to find a way out of work. She was a fine demon hunter, sure. Elias knew that; the whole team knew she could hold her own when it came down to it. Yet she no longer had the same drive for it, just like her half-brother did. Elias hoped he could see her bounce back.

Starting up the vehicle, Cloie switched the air conditioning on while Elias quickly tried to put down the windows. He took a deep breath, wondering what this situation would develop into. Elias had not seen this before in the Nebulus Islands.

They were home to the Sibllyine races, inside a closed-off dimension inside the Bermuda Triangle. There were wards set up around the borders a few miles out to keep the rest of the world from keeping them in: they would cross that point, that barrier, and instantly wind up on the other side. They would never know they had crossed the borders unless they knew how to get in or had Sibylline blood.

The wards were the only way the Nebulus Islands had stayed safe for so long, excluding themselves from their fair share of tourism, wars, and international interactions. There was peace at times, yet demonic presence started to increase over the years because they were drawn to the island’s magical energy. The Islands became more dangerous as the people who resided in Masserly and Hunter’s Port became more estranged. Elias had seen that over the years when he came in, seeking closure and a place to hide. He saw the crime and the demonic activity, the independent demon fighters, a whirlpool of danger, and the presence of the MIC.

The MIC had conquered numerous demons over the years, even before Elias joined to assist. Run-ins with demonic cults had happened with the MIC, but none had seen anything like this. It worried Elias a little; if the hanging was a direct message like Gabriel had theorized, then it would mean they had set off the wrong person. But who?

Elias rested against the door while the car pulled out of the parking spot. Elias glanced over at Cloie, wondering how she felt about the team being forced onto the hanging investigation. So, what’s your take on this?

What? The murders? She questioned. Elias nodded in return, albeit the possibility that there was a strange feeling lurking within his chest. Something seemed to whisper in his ear that this was far more than just a murder spree.

Cloie bit her lip for a moment, looking back to the road. Turning right out of the driveway and starting to make their way down the street. Cloie opened her mouth to speak again, I think it was just another murder. We have no idea who the killers are, assuming it was multiple people. The victims all we know so far is that they were from different Sibylline races. I could be wrong … but it doesn’t sit right with me, I’ll say that much, Cloie said, looking over at Elias for a brief second.

Elias nodded faintly, able to understand where she was coming from. In truth, it could be another murder spree by a deranged killer or a cult, but Elias also felt this was not randomized. A picture was drawn out, which was now linked to the clan. Elias was willing to bet it was all connected to what happened in Somerset, making the picture even bigger than they knew. I think it’s part of something bigger than we expect.

What makes you say that? Cloie asked.

"Look at it this way. You’ve got five bodies hung up from the top of the Oeconomia Building, right? Each body is a different Sibylline race. This could be a coincidence, but the bodies face the Manor. Now, on that same night, you’ve got a fey from each court hung from the tallest Somerset building facing the Council building. This could be a coincidence, right? But how often does shit happen like this? This is methodical, Cloie. Planned," Elias said to her, leaning back into the seat. Cloie started to nod briefly, growing silent as his theory sunk into her open mind.

For the rest of the ride to the Oeconomia Building, Cloie had remained silent, leaving Elias to think about who could be responsible for the murders. None of the cults that the MIC had run into recently had enough members to pull something like this off if it was a team effort. No, none of them would’ve gained access to a building like this. Either it was a forced entry, or they knew what they were doing, Elias thought.

Cloie parked her vehicle, taking a deep breath as she looked past Elias toward the building, showing uneasiness. Elias looked as well after a moment; civilians going in and out of the front doors made Elias wonder if Amanda had been misinformed about the investigation. They both got out, Cloie locking the car and looking over at Elias as he crossed his arms, looking up. Cloie reopened her door for a moment, reaching in and grabbing something. Elias watched her reach beneath the dash, grabbing a bulky object. He realized it was her pistol in its holster, just in case anything went south inside. There was a chance that those responsible could return to the crime scene.

As they crossed the street, Elias looked around to scan their surroundings, keeping his head on a swivel. Pedestrians nearby moved around one another on the sidewalk, dressed in high-end suits and business clothes, some even carrying briefcases. Elias glanced up toward the top of the Oeconomia Building. The towering building of economics was one of the last places he wanted to be.

The pristine lobby was filled with people talking on the phone and heels clicking against the tile flooring. People moved around them to leave or go in the opposite direction, reminding Elias of what he vaguely remembered from the military. Not that those were all good times he wanted to be reminded of. Because he was not paying attention, Elias bumped shoulders with another man. Elias turned to apologize, while the man turned back slightly, glaring at him with their gray eyes, before pulling up the hood of his hoodie and walking out of the door. Elias pursed his lips, unsure what to think of the dark fey that had just left. Elias and Cloie moved through the lobby, heading to the front desk to check-in. The secretary there looked like a wreck as she was moved around her desk frantically, looking for something.

Hannah Reed, her nameplate engraved on it. She made a triumphant noise, holding up her presumably lost pen—she picked the phone up and, after a moment, started to write something down on a post-it note. Cloie leaned forward on the edge of the desk, turning to face Elias as they waited. She pushed her rimless glasses up on the bridge of her nose, looking slightly bored as she gazed around the room. Elias faintly chuckled, knowing she was one of the most impatient people he knew. Already getting impatient?

Me? It’s not even that; just look around this place. This building. People dress up in suits, dresses, and button-up shirts to look all presentable five days a week, doing office work or running errands for people who don’t give a shit about you. Same thing every day; file this, file that, Cloie said with disdain as she looked back toward Elias. He glanced around as well, raising a faint eyebrow; he knew why she did not like it: it was simple and utterly boring. Monotonous. There was no action involved.

You know, there’s a decent amount of people in this city who don’t give a shit about us or what we do. We’re not too different in some ways, he said open-mindedly.

The secretary cleared her throat, turning her attention to them. What can I help you with today? Hannah asked in a cheerful, light voice.

We’re with the Masserly Ingenious Clan. We are here on official business about the incident that happened last night, Elias said, looking at the secretary. She nodded, her eyebrows furrowing as she gave them a blank stare back for a moment.

So, we need to see whoever is in charge of security, Cloie added.

But your boss already sent somebody here; they came an hour ago, Hannah said, catching them off guard.

Are you sure?

Yes. You guys sent a dark fey, right? Hannah asked. Elias looked toward Cloie, and they gave one another a blank look before Elias nodded. He stiffened up, shaking his head as he crossed his arms, looking toward the front doors for a moment. Well, isn’t this just lovely?

We have no members from the Dark Court. Could they be from the Peacekeepers by any chance? Maybe The Council sent in another team? Cloie asked, even though they both knew the answer to that, slightly shaking his head and returning to minding he misheard them. They said they wanted to speak to the same person, Mr. Rogers? He is either on the top floor or down on this floor in the security office. There’s a sign to the right that will lead you there, said Hannah, and Elias nodded, giving her a fake smile and thanking her for her time. He began walking toward the security office with Cloie, looking like black sheep in the lobby. Elias wore an old leather jacket and jeans, while Cloie wore a white tank top with a royal blue, unbuttoned shirt thrown over it, paired with shorts that would be considered revealing" in any school. She also had her pistol on her hip while Elias was unarmed.

So, what are you thinking? Cloie asked in a low voice as she walked up beside him.

I don’t remember a Dark fey ever being in the Peacekeepers. Do you? Elias asked as he turned to look toward her. She gave him an annoyed look, not needing to answer him. He nodded, looking back to where they were going. That’s what I thought too.

Once they reached the security office, Elias opened the door for her to go in first. She looked around before taking the lead. She walked up to the desk, Elias following loosely, asking to see Mr. Rogers.

Mr. Rogers? He’s up on the top floor, The secretary there responded. She smiled at them before lowering her head to return to her work. Cloie turned around, leaving as Elias led her out, heading back to the lobby. Moving toward one of the elevators by the hallway, just beyond the lobby. Elias preferred them instead of going up fifty flights of stairs.

While they stood there, waiting for one to come down to the first floor, Cloie nudged him faintly with her elbow. You think the dark fey could be responsible for this?

What makes you think that? The dark fey impersonating one of the clan members? Elias asked curiously.

Yeah. Seems fishy to me, Elias, and I know you’re thinking along these lines too. I know you too well, She responded, crossing her arms and giving him a casual, I know I’m right, look.

Elias glanced over at her, wondering how she felt about it all. So, what’s your take on this?

What? The murders? She asked. Nodding in return, Elias tilted his head.

Cloie bit her lip for a moment before shaking her head slightly. I think it was just another murder. We have no idea who the killers were, assuming it was multiple people. The victims—all we know so far—that they were from different Sibylline races. I could be wrong. But it doesn’t sit right with me, I’ll say that much.

I’m just being cautious with everything right now. I don’t like what’s going on, though, especially if someone impersonating us came here. They could be with whoever hung the bodies, Elias said as he looked toward her. There was a man on the other side of her, briefcase in hand, as he faced the elevator doors. He glanced toward them, eyeing their outfits, before shaking his head slightly and returning to minding his business. Elias rolled his eyes just as the elevator door to their right opened. They filed in, Cloie going to retreat to the back corner, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

Elias stood beside her, turning to face her halfway as he looked down at her. So, you think a dark fey committed these murders?

Look, Eli, take my opinion with a grain of salt, but something doesn’t add up here.

Oh, trust me, I know. I’m sure Amanda will be thinking the same thing, Elias responded as he looked back toward the floor counter above them.

The rest of the way up, they were quiet. Once they reached the top floor, they got out, Elias. Almost immediately after leaving the elevator, they were confronted by an older gentleman sporting a gray beard, with the wood-colored strands of hair fading to gray. He wore a white-blue plaid long-sleeve shirt and gray khakis, with a Universal Security clipped to his faded belt.

Excuse me, I’ll need you folks to head back down; this floor is off-limits.

We’re here with the Masserly Ingenious Clan, sir.

The MIC? But they’ve already been here. You sent in another guy; he came up here probably thirty minutes ago or something like that. Actually, he just left—you didn’t see him on the way in? Did he miss something? He asked, looking from Elias to Cloie. Elias glanced at Cloie, and she returned the look back at him through her thin-framed glasses.

What did he look like exactly? We did not send anybody in, but you and your secretary said we did, Elias stated. Mr. Rogers sighed slightly, running his hand down his beard, before shaking his head.

Uh, dark gray skin, black hair down to the back of his neck. Probably mid-twenties wearing a navy-blue shirt and cargo shorts. I did not think he had been dressed properly, but after seeing her, I’m starting to wonder if you guys even know ‘formality’ in your vocabulary, Mr. Rogers stated.

Excuse me, but you’re not in charge of our attire in any shape or form. You say the same thing to that fey who just left? Cloie retorted, venom seeping into her voice. Elias casually looked away to mask his grin, letting Cloie handle it herself rather than say anything else for her. Mr. Rogers shook his head, turning away, motioning for them to follow.

Whatever. I don’t know what you two do and do not know. What do you already know about this? He asked, leading them toward the next room over. It was a conference room with multiple agents in there. Some were police; two people caught Elias’ eyes though; Wallace and Ulysses, two members of the Peacekeepers. They were in the corner of the room, speaking to one another privately.

We know that each one is a different Sibylline race. We know nothing of the killers, cause of death, motive, or whether this was tied in with the Somerset incident. We were hoping you had some leads by now. The Council is requesting all information on this, Elias said, crossing his arms.

So, you do all the talking, I take it? Rogers asked, chuckling slightly.

You don’t like women on the job? Guess that’s expected, Cloie retorted almost immediately, laughing as she raked her blue eyes over him. Elias was about to reach over and smack her in the arm to get her to stop when she continued, "Do realize, Mr. Rogers, that the disrespect you are showing me because of your incomprehensive attitude toward gender in the workforce will not go unnoticed. Elias here is the leader between us two. He has much more experience with questioning than I do. Now, if you want to keep running your mouth, I am sure things between us can get less than desirable, resulting in your termination due to discrimination," Cloie said through gritted teeth. While listening to her speak, Elias noticed that her hand was faintly glowing a blue aura, making him wonder what she intended to do. Elias looked from her to the head of security as the man straightened himself up.

"Do I need to remove you two from the premises? Or just her?" He asked, clasping his hands together in front of him.

"Doing so would probably result in you losing your job, Mr. Rogers. We’re here under the jurisdiction of the Council. Not cooperating with us because you want to be an asshole very well may go wrong," Cloie fired back, causing most of the room to look their way, save the Peacekeepers.

Listen, dude, just give us the damn information we need. Elias requested, starting to lose his patience. Mr. Rogers gave him a judgmental look before taking a soft nod and stepping out of the way.

Unfortunately, I don’t have much for you two up here, the same thing I told those Peacekeeper boys over there, Mr. Rogers said. I have no fingerprints on the stairwell door leading onto the roof. Nothing on the ropes that were used. No weapons, either. They had to be alive when they were hanged.

Do you have any proof of that? Cloie asked.

Mr. Rogers